


In the Early Morning Light (An Interlude)

by StarlightAndFireflies



Series: Caffeine and Courage [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Developing Relationship, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Romance, Teen John, Teen Romance, Teen Sherlock, Teenlock, rated t just to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-17 03:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12356265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightAndFireflies/pseuds/StarlightAndFireflies
Summary: The incident with Sebastian has passed, and Sherlock and John's relationship continues to evolve.This is a brief follow-up to my previous fic, Caffeine and Courage. A longer conclusion to the series to follow.





	In the Early Morning Light (An Interlude)

**Author's Note:**

> This story resumes the morning following the events of my fic Caffeine and Courage, so if you have not read that one, this might not make a lot of sense. I would recommend reading them in order, but then I suppose I can't really stop you if you read this first, can I? ;)
> 
> Not betaed.
> 
> I do not own Sherlock. If I did, series four would have been way different.

Sherlock winced and sucked in air with a hiss as he dragged his shirt over the bandage on his shoulder. The cloth caught on the gauze and tugged painfully at the still-tender wound.

"You okay?" John's voice, laced with gentle concern, made him look up.

"Fine," he murmured, nodding. "Just the bandage."

But John stepped over, halfway through lacing up his shoes, and pushed the shirt back off Sherlock's shoulder to examine the taped-on gauze. His fingers, callused from football and work, barely brushed Sherlock's skin, but the younger boy still had to hide a shiver.

Apparently oblivious, John tugged Sherlock's shirt back on for him. "I can re-bandage it if you want," he said, meeting his gaze. There was the faintest trace of guilt in his eyes. Sherlock knew he felt awful for not having been there when Sebastian had arrived, though of course, how could either of them have known then what was going to happen?

"No, it's alright," Sherlock smiled in response to John's worry, though he felt a clenching in his stomach at the look on the shorter boy's face. "Let's go."

Sherlock shoved his feet into his shoes and grabbed his coat, then, as soon as he'd swung it on, he felt John's fingers brush his own. He whipped his gaze up, his other hand going slack around his bag, and saw a bright blush on John's face. Sherlock bit his lip and let John lead him down the stairs and out into the cool morning air.

The night before, after the Sebastian debacle, John had gone downstairs to his own flat to shower and sleep. However, as Sherlock lay in his bed, alone, he found that he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. And it wasn't the caffeine from the half-finished coffee earlier; it was adrenaline and fear still thrumming through him. So after nearly an hour, he rolled over and snatched his phone from the bedside table, nearly ripping the charger from the wall in the process.

_I don't want to be alone. SH_

John had appeared barely a minute later, in his pyjamas and looking a bit sleepy but worried. He must have fallen asleep already, though it could not have been a deep slumber for him to have heard Sherlock's text. Standing in the doorway of the bedroom, he had taken one look at Sherlock's face, then climbed into bed next to him. They didn't speak, but Sherlock immediately felt a tension in his shoulders he hadn't noticed before start to ease in John's safe, steady presence. He drifted off within minutes, the last sensation before he was gone entirely a tender press of lips to his forehead.

Now, the next morning, he could barely look at John. He wanted the other boy to stop looking so guilty every time he looked at Sherlock. It hadn't been a big deal, after all. Sherlock had gotten Sebastian off him before any real damage had been done, and yes, he had been a bit emotionally compromised last night, not to mention a little stabbed, but none of that was John's fault.

They walked hand-in-hand to the bus, then once they were situated next to one another on an upper deck seat, Sherlock took John's hand again. He saw, to his relief, a small smile on John's face when he did so.

"I was supposed to bring you a coffee this morning," Sherlock said suddenly, fretting. He'd forgotten. "I was supposed to surprise you..."

"Don't worry about it," John smiled, glancing at his watch. "We don't have much time, anyway. We slept a bit late."

Sherlock bit his lip. "Later?" He wanted today to be good.

John turned to him, and then a soft giggle passed his lips. "Well, how could I saw no to that face?" he grinned. "Sure. When is your class over again?"

"My last class is done at one." He had two today, both equally tedious. "What about you? Oh, you've that anatomy test!"

John grimaced and nodded. "Yeah, but it should be over around half one, assuming I don't have to stay over because I'm a moron."

"You're not a moron," Sherlock rolled his eyes, digging in John's bag for his notes. "Here, I'll quiz you."

John chuckled. "You don't have to do that."

"Well, too bad. I am. Now listen."

John beamed at him as Sherlock launched into a list of bones, instructing John to identify which one did not belong and what made it incongruous. He tried to concentrate on the notes, and not on the way John's sapphire eyes still managed to sparkle like that in the early morning light drifting in through the grimy bus windows.

****

 

* * *

 

 

Sherlock was leaning against the building that housed John's anatomy class, twiddling his phone in his fingers. John should be finished by now... Sighing with impatience, he looked down and unlocked the phone deftly, searching for a place they could go for coffee. Sherlock rather wanted to celebrate, both John's successful test (there was no way he would fail; he was going to be such a brilliant doctor) and the fact neither of them had been murdered by an angry, vengeful drug dealer the night before. Therefore, he didn't want to take John to someplace they usually went, like Illy or Caffe Nero. He wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere independent, somewhere special.

He'd just found a place, with food, which was probably a good idea - John would certainly be hungry, and even Sherlock was a touch peckish by now - when he heard his name called.

"Sherlock Sherlock Sherlock!"

He looked up and smiled, feeling a jolt somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach when he caught sight of John dashing over to him, a wide grin on his face. He pushed himself off the wall and opened his mouth to greet him, when-

"Sherlock, I completely destroyed that test," John was babbling excitedly as he reached him. "I haven't felt that good about a test ever, and it was amazing and you're amazing," he was beaming and squeezing Sherlock's hands again, a bit breathless from his half-jog over. "Thank you so much for helping me."

He popped up on his toes and suddenly his lips were on Sherlock's. Sherlock stumbled back in shock, and his back hit the wall of the building again, but John's lips had followed. They were still pressing against his with enthusiasm. Unplanned, his eyes fluttered closed, and within a second, he was kissing John back, tentative and uncertain but also never wanting this to stop.

It did stop, however, after just a few brilliant moments. John stepped back, though his hands were still gripping Sherlock's. He stared up at him, eyes wide as if he were feeling as surprised as Sherlock. "I..." he stammered, his cheeks reddening. "Wasn't expecting that."

"You're the one who did it," Sherlock retorted, pressing his lips together to keep from grinning.

"So..." John stammered, his ears turning red now too. "It was okay?"

Sherlock let out a surprised huff of a laugh. "Of course it was," he replied earnestly, seeing John's shoulders sag in relief. "We've technically been boyfriends for weeks now."

John laughed too, a touch more uncomfortable-sounding than Sherlock. "I just... I should have warned you, but..." he rubbed the back of his neck. "You were just standing here looking so... I just... Sorry."

"John," Sherlock bit his lip, the lip which John had just been kissing only moments ago (kissing!). "It's fine. I... I liked it."

"Okay," John sighed, though his face was still not unlike a beet. "So... do you think I could... try it again?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and pulled his hands from John's, cradled his face, and pressed their lips together again. John grinned into the kiss, his own hands reaching up to brush hesitantly against the nape of Sherlock's neck. Sherlock had no idea how to kiss, so allowed John to take the lead. John was gentle, just barely putting pressure on Sherlock's mouth, keeping his own lips firmly shut. It was a kiss that left Sherlock wanting more.

He didn't get any more, though, because John pulled back then, eyes fluttering open. There was a delighted sort of gleam in them, and he was grinning. Sherlock was fairly certain he had never seen anything lovelier.

"That was..." Sherlock found himself stammering. If this was what kissing John was like, he cursed himself for not doing it sooner. "... good."

John laughed, fingers gently stroking a curl at the base of Sherlock's neck. "Come on, you, let's go."

Sherlock couldn't stop his probably absurd smile as John took his hand again and they started off away from campus. "I, um." Great, he was still stammering. He held up his phone as John looked up at him. "I found a place to go for lunch."

"Will there be coffee?"

Sherlock chuckled. "Yes, of course. And pizza."

"Bloody hell, you're the best."

John looked up just in time to see Sherlock blushing, and he squeezed his hand. "Well, you are. Now where are we headed to, boyfriend?"

A thrill went through Sherlock at that. John had called him that occasionally, but it had always been teasing; this time, though, was genuine. Sherlock felt himself still reeling from both that and the kiss as he described where they were headed for lunch. Even as he gave directions, his mind was elsewhere. He and John had been close for a while now, but it had only in the past week and a half or so started to become closer. John had been touching him more, ruffling his curls or hugging him. And Sherlock had caught himself leaning into John when they sat together, too. He supposed this had been building for some time, perhaps ever since he had impulsively headed to the downstairs flat, knowing that the medical student who lived there was sure to have coffee he could use.

"Hey," John murmured as they waited to cross the street. "You with me?"

Sherlock blinked. "What?"

"I said, you with me? You look kind of... distracted."

Sherlock shook himself. "Yes, sorry, I was just..." he smirked at John. "We should have done this ages ago.”

"What, kissed? I'll say," John beamed at him, and they both giggled.

They were rather giddy all throughout lunch. Sherlock had led them to a locally-owned cafe, known for its Italian pizzas and coffees. He and John laughed their way through the meal, teasing each other about their terrible pronunciations of the Italian names on the menu and fighting over who got the last slice of the pizza they'd ordered to share. Then they lingered over a second cup of coffee and held hands, blushing and flirting and smiling.

It was the best lunch Sherlock had ever had.

That afternoon, John practically dragged Sherlock to Regent's Park and sat him down on the bench, chewing on his lip. Sherlock watched, a sudden chill going through him. Was something wrong?

"Hey, don't look like that," he said quickly, brushing at an errant lock of Sherlock's hair on his forehead. "I just..."

"Just what?" Sherlock felt his shoulders tensing.

"Sherlock, you're barely seventeen," John fretted, clutching at his hand. "You're so young. I... I shouldn't have kissed you. I mean, n-not that I didn't want to, because I _really_ did, I just..."

"John," Sherlock huffed, relieved. "I did not have to allow you to kiss me. We have both seen that I am perfectly capable of stopping people from touching me if I wish to. And I am capable of giving consent, which I have never considered _not_ giving you."

"I know that, but-"

"Where did this come from?" Sherlock asked, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice. "We were having a perfectly good time earlier..."

John sighed, leaning into Sherlock's side. "We were, I'm sorry. I just want to be clear with you. Other than that first kiss - which I'm still sorry about, by the way - I won't kiss you, or... anything, unless you specifically ask you to."

Sherlock gazed at him, marveling silently at this boy. He looked so concerned and earnest and gentle, trying to be so careful and courteous.

"What?" John asked, shifting. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Instead of answering, Sherlock leaned forward and kissed him. John gave a surprised sound but kissed back. Sherlock pressed into his mouth eagerly, trying to convey all the feelings he had for John in this one kiss, all the affection and sentiment he didn't know how to express aloud. Then he pulled back, still gripping at his boyfriend's shoulders and grinning. "Firstly," he began. "Please stop apologizing for giving me my first kiss. Secondly, thank you. I do want to... take things slowly. This..." he paused, biting his lip. "I've never done this before."

"That's fine," John said quickly. "That's perfectly alright. I... I don't want to mess things up with you."

Sherlock smiled at him, then settled against his side. "How could you? You give me coffee."

John laughed, but sobered quickly. “Right, but still.” He met Sherlock’s eyes, a crease in his forehead and a slightly distressed expression on his face. “You’re only seventeen.”

Sherlock huffed. “You’re nineteen, and I’ve just turned seventeen. That means you’re only about two and a half years older than me. Besides, seventeen-” He stopped himself as he felt the beginnings of a blush creep up his cheeks.

John raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing.” Sherlock shook his head.

“No, what?” John asked. Moments later, though, his eyes widened in realization. “Oh. Right. Er… consent. Yeah.”

Sherlock nodded, definitely blushing now and keeping his eyes off John.

“Hey,” John tilted his head down in an attempt to catch Sherlock’s gaze. “Like I said, I’ll only kiss me if you ask me to.”

“I don’t think they just mean kissing when they say ‘age of consent,’ John,” Sherlock said.

John let out a choked laugh, cheeks going scarlet in a second. “I-”

But that reaction sent a half-embarrassed giggle through Sherlock, and he bit his lip to contain it. However, soon both were giggling through their blushes. Sherlock ducked his head and hid it in the crook of John’s shoulder.

“Come on, you,” John said when they had calmed down at last and could actually look at one another. “Let’s go.”

He stood up and held out his hand for Sherlock. Sherlock hesitated a moment, eyes on the proffered hand, then shifting up to look into John’s eyes, so blue and soft now while they connected with Sherlock’s. A small smile played at the corners of the older boy’s mouth, and he twitched his fingers slightly, such a subtle move but it spurred Sherlock on nonetheless.

He slipped his own hand into John’s, their fingers intertwining. John’s smile grew into a full-on grin, and Sherlock felt his own expression mirror it.

Together, they headed off hand in hand.

****

 

* * *

 

****

The next four weeks passed in what seemed to be a blur of study sessions in practically every coffee shop in a three mile radius of their classes, stolen kisses all over the city, and classes full of daydreams populated by a smiling face dominated by deep blue eyes, stunning in their warmth and intensity. It had taken a frustrating fortnight for John to stop asking “can I kiss you?” before their snogs, but he was still insisting on stopping before they got too heated.

The chivalry was acceptable, Sherlock supposed, but he couldn’t help feeling just a bit coddled. He was young, yes, but he wasn’t a _child_.

One month after their first kiss, Sherlock found himself leaning on the fence outside their building. He gazed up at the walls, idly wondering about the future. The university owned the place, filled with a dozen single-occupancy flats specifically for uni students, equipped with a bedroom, toilet, and a cramped sitting room-kitchenette combination. But both Sherlock and John’s residencies would end at the end of the spring term. Would they renew them, as some students did? Would they seek out real leases, in real flats?

Or… did John want to move in with Sherlock somewhere? Was it too early to think about that kind of thing?

Mycroft certainly would think so, Sherlock fumed as he kicked at a small pebble in front of him and sent it skittering away into the street. His big brother, busy most hours with his new work with the British government, had still somehow managed to take the time to come visit Sherlock. Or rather, to threaten John, who had showed up on Sherlock’s doorstep one afternoon, fists clenched and equal amounts of irritation and fear etched all over his countenance. When Sherlock had asked what was the matter, John had explained how someone who claimed to be Sherlock’s worst enemy had told him to stay away if he knew what was good for him. Sherlock had laughed at first, until Mycroft pestered him the next few days about everything from the statement he had given to Lestrade about Sebastian Wilkes to if he and John were using protection. Sherlock had nearly flung his phone out the window after reading _that_.

Yes, Mycroft would, without a doubt, consider the idea of his little brother moving in with his boyfriend of only one month to be too much, too soon. And even Sherlock could not entirely ignore the knot of anxiety at the possibility.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said.

Sherlock felt the anxiety and worry fall away as he spun on his heels to face John, who was striding toward him. The slope of his shoulders, the set of his mouth, the speed of his walk, all pointed to one conclusion: he was tired, but preoccupied about something too.

“Hi,” Sherlock replied, wondering what was wrong.

John stopped next to him and dropped his bag on the ground by their feet then leaned against the fence. “What are you doing out here, handsome?”

Sherlock shrugged. “Thinking. Needed a change of scene.”

“Well, I can leave you to it-” John began to say, bending down to retrieve his bag. But Sherlock caught his arm, tugging him back upright.

“It’s okay,” he said. Then, when he saw John’s eyes flick down to Sherlock’s lips, he leaned forward and brushed their lips together. “I was waiting for you,” he added, then kissed John again.

John grinned, his hand reaching up to tangle in Sherlock’s hair. “Miss me?”

“A bit,” Sherlock smirked.

They kissed a few moments longer, then broke apart and grinned at each other. Sherlock felt his heart leap. Who would have imagined that someone like him would have a boyfriend as wonderful as John, would be staring at him in such a sentimental manner? How quickly things could change. Only weeks ago, Sherlock would have scoffed at the idea of having anyone wanting to kiss him, let alone having anyone to call a _boyfriend_.

“I do have something to tell you though,” John murmured as they headed inside. Sherlock frowned as he watched John rummage for his keys and let them into his flat.

“What is it?”

“It’s not bad,” John hastened to reassure him. “Just serious.”

Sherlock immediately tensed. John seemed to feel it, because he turned to face Sherlock and took his hands.

He paused a moment, just looking up into Sherlock’s face and chewing on his lower lip. “Come on,” he finally muttered. They settled onto his small, old sofa. Sherlock watched with curiosity at the way John moved. His shoulders were tensed, but his touch was soft and gentle. So he couldn’t be angry with Sherlock, but seemed to be concerned about something related to Sherlock.

“John, what is it?” he pressed.

“It’s about…” John met his gaze. “It’s about Sebastian.”  
“What about him?” Sherlock’s reply was sharper and louder than he intended, but he could not deny the way ice seemed to crystallize in his chest at the sound of the name. “What’s happened?”

“He’s going to jail,” John squeezed his hands, eyes wide with urgency. “He won’t be able to hurt you again.”

“What?” Sherlock sat up straighter. “He…? How?”

John exhaled quickly, smiling. “He broke into your home, Sherlock. He came with the express purpose to hurt you. You said so when you talked to Lestrade.”

“I know,” Sherlock said. “I know, I just… I didn’t think they would charge him so soon.”

John nodded. “I guess when the bloke is also a proven drug dealer and shows no remorse for what he did to you, they tend to move quickly. I guess his family is also not exactly rich, so it’s not like they could get him off on community service or something.”

Sherlock shrugged. “So it’s over then?”

“Yeah,” John interlocked their fingers. He leaned down and kissed Sherlock’s palm, just a soft brush of his lips against his skin.

Sherlock watched him, knowing perfectly well there was a ridiculously fond expression on his face. “How long did Sebastian get?”

“Three years I guess,”

“Good,” Sherlock inclined his head decisively. “Good riddance.”

John chuckled. “Yeah. Good… riddance.” With each word, he pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s skin, more lingering this time. Sherlock couldn’t suppress a shudder.

“Come here,” John said then, and tugged him closer, his arms coming around Sherlock.

“What are you doing?” Sherlock smirked, leaning into his embrace.

“Well, the total arse who threatened to stab my gorgeous boyfriend is in prison for a long time, I am passing all my modules, and I have nothing to do this weekend except spend time with my aforementioned gorgeous boyfriend. Something I plan to take full advantage of.” John’s nose pressed into the crook of Sherlock’s shoulder, and Sherlock could feel his smile.

“Oh?” he asked. “And what are you planning on doing to me, then?”

“Well, right now,” John’s arms tightened around his waist. “Cuddling.”

Sherlock let out a bark of laughter. “That seems very… chaste.”

He turned his head to find John raising his eyebrows at him, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, really? And what were you planning on doing, then, gorgeous?”

“I was…” Sherlock blushed. “Hoping you would kiss me, actually.”

The smirk widened on John’s face, turning a bit suggestive. “Hmm. Sounds like an agreeable alternative.”

And Sherlock felt, in that moment as John pulled him closer and sealed their lips, that he could have been content to drift away into nothingness, if only John and his brilliant smile came with him.

****

 

* * *

 

****

Sherlock felt as if, were he given the opportunity, he would be willing and eager to look at John Watson asleep in his bed for years. His eyes roved over the older boy’s handsome face, from his gold-blond hair sprinkled with honey tones to his oh-so-kissable lips and the light dusting of stubble on his chin.

Sherlock had awoken a quarter of an hour before, but had found himself surprisingly unwilling to get up. It was a Saturday, and he had no urgent plans. Instead, he remained next to John, where it was warm and he could be wrapped up in the memories of the previous night without interruption. Their talk about Sebastian, their kisses, and then everything that followed, Sherlock replayed in his mind, vowing to file them in a prominent spot in his mind palace. They deserved preferential treatment.

However, the time for reminiscence had passed. John was beginning to stir, something Sherlock watched with fascination. He reveled in the fact that the first sound John would hear today was his voice.

“Morning… boyfriend,” he murmured, keeping his voice low and gentle so as not to jolt John into consciousness too quickly.

John, soft and peaceful next to him, did not appear to be fully awake yet, but Sherlock’s words made him shift and his eyelids to flutter. He rolled over, sliding the pillow beneath his smiling face, and Sherlock reached out to rest a hand on his arm.

“What are you looking so happy about?” Sherlock asked.

“Mmm,” John groaned. His voice contained a touch of hoarseness, which made Sherlock’s stomach turn over in a strange yet pleasant way. “You.”

Sherlock chuckled. As John opened his eyes and found him watching, his smile widened. “Hey, gorgeous.”

Sherlock leaned forward until they were nearly nose to nose, then after a penetrating look, pressed their lips together. Both savored it, not in a hurry at all. Sherlock, often abrasive and bold in his opinions, felt how different he was when they were alone.

Maybe this was happiness.

“Mmm,” John repeated once they broke apart. “This is going to be really cheesy, but I like waking up next to you.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, which made John grin as though that had been just the reaction he had been expecting. But a moment later, the memory of what Sherlock had been worried about yesterday flooded back. Would he get to wake up next to John more often? Would they be able to spend the night at one another’s flats more often next term? Would they drift apart if they moved apart? He felt his expression transforming into something more thoughtful, almost sad, as his mood fell from its pedestal of contentment. His eyes flickered down, away from John’s gaze.

“What?” John asked.

Sherlock sat up, fiddling with the sheets. He didn’t want to talk about this and have to look at John at the same time. But John followed him, wrapping his arms around his legs as he pulled them toward his chest. “Sherlock?”

“Nothing, just... “ he frowned as he tried to decide how best to broach this subject, especially so early in the morning. “I was wondering what I’m going to do next year, when we’re probably living in different places.”

John’s hesitated a moment before replying. “Oh.” He swallowed. “You’re moving?”

Wait. What?

Sherlock’s gaze snapped back onto him in an instant, and his lips parted in surprise. “You… you’re not?”

John shook his head, forehead creasing in a bemused expression Sherlock had seen many times on his face. “No… why? Did you think I was?”

Sherlock shrugged, his cheeks warming. “It’s just… it’ll be the end of term in a few months, and both our leases are up. Most students in our year will be moving to different accommodations, especially you, since you’re going to be doing your work at one of the teaching hospitals next year, so I thought you’d want to move farther into the city…”

“Sherlock,” John interrupted. “This is London. The tube can get you just about anywhere. I can get to a hospital in not much time.”

“But-” Sherlock frowned.

“I’m going to renew my lease, I think.” John smiled, though the look of mild confusion remained. “It’s London living yeah, but I figure I can pay off any loans once I finish school and get a proper job. So I wouldn’t give it up. Besides, rent out here is much better than in the middle of the city for a poor student like me.

“So you aren’t moving?” Sherlock cut across him, eyes wide and tone urgent, though a smile was creeping onto his face. It seems what he had been hoping for, that they could continue living in such close proximity, John had gone ahead and assumed. The best assumption in the history of assumptions.

“No,” John said. “I’m staying here.” Then he blinked, eyes widening. “Are… are you moving or something?”

Sherlock shook his head. “No, I don’t mind it here. It’s near enough to campus and to everything else interesting here, and…” His cheeks flamed and he looked down, biting his lip to stifle the treacherous words he had nearly let slip out.

“And what?” John prompted. He edged closer and knocked his shoulder against Sherlock’s. “Go on, tell me.”

Sherlock avoided his gaze with stubborn determination, but he replied. “And you’re here, alright? You’re here, making me come over all sentimental!”

A laugh bubbled up out of John’s chest, warm and joyous. As his shoulders shook, Sherlock huffed and crossed his arms. “And stop laughing at me!” he protested, though even he could tell he sounded unconvincing. He was too relieved to be honestly annoyed.

“You are so cute,” John said, grinning and still fighting off giggles. “You try to act all emotionless and super-genius-y all the time, but you’re really just so cu-”

Before he could finish the word, Sherlock had uttered a mock-offended exclamation and thrown a pillow at John’s face. There was a ringing moment of silence, and then Sherlock’s eyes widened as John slowly, deliberately raised the pillow and met his gaze with fierce intent.

“John,” Sherlock said, raising his hands in a protective gesture. “John, no…”

But John pounced, pressing the pillow over Sherlock and sending them both toppling over backward onto the mattress again. A loud laugh burst out of Sherlock against his will as John began to tickle him, and the younger boy’s arms flailed as he tried, only half-heartedly, to fend off John. This was actually rather wonderful, the whole situation. John was staying, John was touching him… What more could he want?

“John!” he gasped when he shoved the pillow off and squirmed under John’s fingers, laughter bubbling out of him, uncontrolled. “No, stop! You’re being-! Ah! Ridiculous!”

But he knew he was beaming, heart pounding from the laughter and happiness, and as John eased his tickling digits and pulled Sherlock close for a kiss, he could not help but think that no matter what happened, next term or in the future, he just wanted to get to do this sort of thing with John all the time.

John pulled back, his hands tangled in Sherlock’s hair in an altogether wondrous way. In fact, their entire bodies were rather entwined. John tilted his head as he surveyed the younger boy, blue eyes steady.

“Sherlock,” he started, brushing a hand down his back. “This might be too soon, and it might be because of… well, last night. And I know I’ve never had a real relationship, so I might be doing so many things wrong and not ready for some things, but… I feel like at least you’re sort of in the same boat with me.” He met Sherlock’s eyes, expression gone a little shy and self-conscious.

Sherlock had frozen. His heart hammered against his ribcage. Could John be about to say…?

“I just want to say this,” John continued. “And don’t feel pressured to say it back but… I…” He swallowed and gulped a deep, stabilizing breath. “I think I might be falling in love with you.”

Sherlock’s heart leapt and fluttered at the same moment, a dizzying sensation. For several moments, he couldn’t move. Then, in a blurry motion, launched himself forward into John’s arms. He kissed John, fierce and bold and excited, then yanked back before it could deepen too much. He had to say this; there would be time for more kissing after.

“John,” he breathed. “I think I’m falling for you too.”

And it may have been a sentimental admission, but Sherlock could not bring himself to care. Not when John, his hair glowing gold and his sapphire eyes sparkling vivid in the early morning light, looked at him with such delight and tenderness. No, Sherlock didn’t balk at the sentiment at all. Not this time.

**Author's Note:**

> There are a couple things Sherlock and I appear to have in common: 1. we both adore John Watson, and 2. we both vanish without warning for months - if not years - at a time. But here I am, a year and a half later, adding to this story! This is long overdue; I just have too many ideas in my head and not nearly enough time to write them all. Plus, I got a horrible case of writer's block on an upcoming installment of Experiments in Alternates that has really damaged my motivation to write lately. But I've received several comments on Caffeine and Courage about how there could be more to it, so here I am, trying to get back in the habit of writing. Truth be told, I hesitated to write this one as well, because I didn't want it to be exactly like other teenlock fics. I hope it isn't too trite.  
> Also, there will be one more, slightly longer, third part to follow this one to wrap things up (since I still have a few things planned for this particular version of our boys)! Stay tuned! I promise I won't wait so long to get that one done! In fact I'm determined to get part of it (it might end up a few chapters) out by Halloween! :)  
> Finally (I promise to shut up soon) in addition to the rest of Experiments, I also have upcoming a long-ish fantasy Johnlock and a fun modern teenlock. Both are in planning/first draft stages, but I'm so excited!  
> Thanks for reading!


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